Not My Skill
by Pianist707
Summary: AU. Rachel wants to help Matthew in something she can't do herself. He declines.


**As you can see, I'm taking a break from one of my LoZ stories, and I'm focusing on the Gallagher Girls series (can't wait for book five! Woot.), when an idea popped into my head like corn. Okay, enough with the metaphors. This is the pairing Rachel Morgan and Matthew Morgan, or called Matchel. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Gallagher Girls series, Ally Carter aka Sarah Leigh Fogleman (or Foglewoman? Not really sure.) is the author and owner of the books. This one-shot is crafted by Pianist707.**

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

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><p>Rachel<p>

_Not My Skill_

"Rachel, you don't need to do this. It's dangerous; I'll handle this matter." Matthew insisted.

I tried to push through, but he remained still, blocking the passage I desperately needed. "I can help you. _Honestly_, I can!" I offered. He only shook his head in grim determination. "No, you're not able to handle this work. It's only going to get worse if you join me."

Tonight, the most important time of the night was high in stakes. I trusted my abilities, but Matthew pretty much declined when I tried to do the job. As two CIA operatives and an eleven year-old girl were in an apartment in Arlington, the argument would have been very ridiculous with a certain topic, if they weren't spies, skilled in many feats and armed to the teeth. Household objects came into the matter, with that very thought. If things spiraled out of control, the bill could be a major problem in future missions.

"Um, Mom…" Cammie began, but we ignored her.

Once again, I went against the human barrier preventing me to reach my destination. Many options passed into my mind, but they weren't optional. I might have taken out Matthew, knocking him with an injection of very strong sleep medicine, but there were many reasons.

One, he's stronger me, and has a greater bulk of holding me like a _doll_ with those broad shoulders.

Two, he's my husband.

"Please, Matt. I won't fail in this: that's a promise!" Begging was not a spy trait, definitely if could be a wife trait, a moment when she begs to her soul-mate that a situation needed something to it. I tried to do this a humble as possible next to a daughter (who knew who mother could kill people).

Matthew sighed, placing both of his hands on my shoulders, going on to direct me to the living room couch, forcing me to sit on his lap. I did not struggle; he had the upper hand. "Let's not get into this argument again." With calloused hands, he wrapped his arms around my stomach, succeeding in trapping me and embracing me. I relaxed at his comforting presence, breathing in his scent. Then he set his plan. "Cam, set the dial: order a pepperoni pizza with breadsticks." He called to the little dark, brunette as he imprisoned me. Said daughter nodded and stood up from the carpet floor and walked to the landline.

"But-" I protested, but Cam cut me off.

"Sorry, Mom, but Daddy and I know your cooking is _lethal._" She called cheerfully as she dialed the number to Pizza Hut.

Now it was my turn to sigh. I lifted my chin to face Matthew to look him in the eye. "I know that already. But you really know how to cook apple pie and such, Matt," I motioned to the counter-top, a crisp-looking food sunning itself in the (artificial) light, "can't you teach me?"

Matt grinned like a loon, I twisted around to head-butt him in the stomach, managing to let him gasp with air, before I was captured once again. "Great idea, we can always try, but your infamous skill to blow up microwaveable food without explosives is amazing."

"S-shut up."

The doorbell rang, and I heard Cammie open the door from her room, exclaiming, "Yes! Glorious,_ real_ food!"

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><p><strong>Well, Rachel Morgan certainly does have horrible cooking.<strong>

**Rachel: I understand… **

**But the great thing is, Cammie's dad is mentioned to have mentioned that her cooking is lethal. As a reference, I used it to write this story. I had fun with the pairing and Cammie proclaiming that she does, have bad cooking. There were plans on people spewing food on the table, but that would be very hard.**

**So, how was it? Humorous and down-to-earth? Not really sure, though, because I wrote this today (3/10/12). Hopefully I will be told multiple opinions on this one-shot.**

**Pianist707 out.**

**P.S.- For possible haters of Pizza Hut and its pizzas, I apologize. That's the first one that came to mind.**


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